For the Love of RoyAi!
by Little Miss AiLy
Summary: As if it weren't enough, another authoress has created a series of RoyAi drabbles. But as the title states, this is For the Love of RoyAi! Possible spoilers will be marked. Discontinued.
1. Beautiful

**For the Love of RoyAi!**

**By:** Akira Asakura

**Genre: **Romance/General

**Rating: **T; just in case of things to come.

**Summary: **_As if it weren't enough, another authoress has created a series of RoyAi drabbles. But, as the title states, this is "For the Love of RoyAi!" Possible spoilers; will be marked._

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _FullMetal Alchemist_.

-♥-

**Drabble One- Beautiful**

She sighed. Riza Hawkeye: Ishbal veteran, CSSA (Central Sharp-Shooting Academy) Valedictorian, always top of everything, Medaled Sniper, hundreds of assortments of awards at only 26 years of age, and First Lieutenant to the one-and-only, ever-so-popular, _"man-whore" himself _(as Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc so "beautifully" stated it) Roy Mustang, but when she looked in the mirror she did not see her many accomplishments.

She did not see the pride she'd single-handedly earned the Hawkeye name after her father's demise and the downfall of a heritage that once could proudly hold it's own against any Armstrong. Sadly, she rather saw her many flaws. And the most dominant of all was that, though she surrounded herself with handsome Roy Mustang; Odd, but intriguing Jean Havoc; Shy and kindly Kain Fuery; and cynically wonderful Maes Hughes, she found herself drastically average. She was, as the term went, "Ms. Plain-Jane who lives next door, always has and always will." And even though she told herself beauty was a most shallow of things, she could not help herself.

These many things were why she had only 2 mirrors in her apartment, one that was in the bathroom and another decorative one given by the neighbors as a welcome gift. She sighed again, glaring at her non-existent beauty she believed she had and decided not to even give the effort of pinning up her hair on such a dreary day, though rain seemed to be such popular villainous scenery. She hoped her mood would pass and hopefully no one would mind her a bit for leaving her hair down.

She was mistaken, but some one minded in a way that made her smile. So as her superior, Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, smiled and said, "You look beautiful with your hair down, Lieutenant," –God forbid the idea that he may be thinking things untold- she decided that though beauty was a fickle thing indeed, she loved being told she was beautiful.

-End-

**A/N:  
**It turned out to be a good 323 words, shorter than I would have guessed, and it makes me smile. I will try to update once a week on this story and lucky for you all, the next seven weeks are simply waiting to be posted. I accept all of the following: criticism, constructive criticism, compliments, challenges, and faint ideas for drabbles. If I cannot fit challenges/ideas into a drabble, you will see it as a separate story. If I cannot make said challenges/ideas, for lack of inspiration, commitment, etc, I'll say so. I refuse to accept flames on this fiction, for it is merely an experiment, meant for testing only, and I refuse to be expected to take gushes such as "OMG, I love it" seriously. If you leave that as a review, I won't do anything, but know that it's not boosting me to write anything for you. Until, next week on my update,  
-_Akira Asakura_


	2. Taking out the Trash

**For the Love of RoyAi!**

**A/N: **  
Thank you for all the kind reviews, and now, here is your next drabble.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _FullMetal Alchemist_ or anything that fall with it in copyright.

-♥-

**Drabble Two- Taking out the Trash**

It was as of February Seventh Riza Hawkeye realized she hated love notes. It was also as of that day, that she decided to do something about it.

She had arrived promptly at work at precisely 6:00 AM. On Saturdays she was permitted to come at 8:00, but it was a Friday on that particular Seventh of February, precisely a week before St. Valentine's Day. She came to the mail room as usual, nodding to the receptionists at the front desk along the way, and first went to the Colonel's box. Her face held, if not actual anger, a faint notion of irritation. The box was bulging with early Valentine's invitations.

Hawkeye kept all of the chocolates, for any woman would hate wasting such delectable treats, but tossed the messages away. She grabbed her hand gun from its holster, noticing it had only two shots left and decided to enjoy target practice while ridding of the unappreciated mail. It seemed there was nothing but love notes in Mustang's mailbox anyway.

She tossed a few rather large ones in the air, seeing how well she'd be able to aim in her fury, and shot one bullet, timing and angling so perfect that they shot each heart-shaped paper dead-center. The force also managed to drift the sheets satisfyingly in the trash can. She repeated her performance with her last bullet of the round and smirked. She shoved the full waste-basket into a corner, grabbing her own mail along the way, and smirked upon seeing the note on top. Tied to a white rose, was a baby-blue sheet of paper. On it were written the words,  
"_I know you will, as you always do, so thank-you for taking out the trash. I hope I may be honored with thanking you with dinner on Valentine's Day,  
Your Lieutenant Colonel,  
Roy Mustang_."

It was then that Riza Hawkeye also realized that she loved taking out the trash.

-End-


	3. Butterfly

**For the Love of RoyAi!**

**By: **Akira Asakura

**A/N:  
**Okay, it took me until the end of the week, but here's the third drabble. It's not one of my favorites, much less do I even really like it, but I had to keep it for you fluff-lovers out there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _FullMetal Alchemist_, so you can find another idiot to sue.

-♥-  
**Butterfly**

On sleep, crisp, autumn evenings, from eleven-o-clock to even two in the morning, he would finally emerge from the chamber of confinement and labor, otherwise called an office, but knowing him, over-exaggeration was such sweet joy. Having completed tasks he surely could've finished hours earlier, for those with minds far less brilliant than his were capable of such, and finding himself accomplished with the dealings of "another back-breaking day", he would yawn, a long, exaggerated yawn, and grin. He would note to himself, though, that the most trouble his day had been Black Hayate using Havoc's chair as a "fire hydrant" or such tales.

And that is where he'd find himself when coming upon his "good little soldier" asleep with her head curled protectively in her arms. And of course she was _his_ for no one dared cross path of this man on such treacherous territory. He'd allow himself another smile and cautiously, slowly as if a single breath could break the moment, which it surely could, approach his own, for she'd always be his, Sleeping Beauty.

Then he'd flutter his hands, much like a butterfly landing on a flower, into her hair and lace it through knots that more or less made her seem human than before. He would think of the butterfly-kisses he'd give her, had he been able to, but flutter the thoughts away when they'd get too far, if he would even let them get that far.

That would usually be when she'd falter from her patterned breaths and her eyes would flutter in warning of waking. So he'd draw his had away, drawing back on slightly by a tilt of the back, keeping a serene balance, though she surely wasn't such a light sleeper, though it wouldn't be very light to sleep through someone lacing finger through your hair.

He'd be left to admire from afar, imagining the silky, golden locks between his worn fingers that were masked by crisp, white gloves, giving off a false sense of innocence. And with enough time, he would finally leave for home, but at least not until he'd flutter that hand throw-blanket onto her shoulders. Actually, it'd take him much longer to leave, but he enjoys telling "gentle fibs".

He'd spend at least an hour in front of her, comparing her to the gentle and proud butterfly, seeming so strong, but surely fragile. As the butterfly holds its wings together in a way of saying "I am to be respected", so did the First Lieutenant hold her head high. But when resting, a fragile state of mind and body would control, capture, take over, the strong woman, as did a gentleness hold the butterfly together. Her eyes held a way of stating "I am not weak" and his grin would reply "No, of course not, just fragile to the touch", a conversation of ideals and personal vocabulary. Finally, upon reaching those thoughts, he'd smile again and leave, shutting the door with a gentle flutter of the hand.

But his thoughts would not end. So as he strode home, he would sadly think of his feelings for her, the feeling forced to be hidden, a sad lullaby of "perhaps". And the Colonel would say to himself, "I'll never be able to tell her, but I love her, _my_ butterfly."


	4. Protection

**For the Love of RoyAi!**

**By:** Akira Asakura

**A/N:  
**I decided to update earlier this week since it took me so long to update last week. Of course this will lead to a longer while to wait for an update, but next time I'm updating twice for that week, because they're both short. Oh, and though I have four more drabbles waiting after this (3 weeks worth) I would still like some challenges. I was supposed to make a sequel to one of them for my friend, but I'm waiting for inspiration. Anyway, enjoy this one. It's a sequel to Butterfly, and don't forget to review after reading!

-♥-

**Drabble Four – Protection**

Springtime came with the joyful promise to all of less work and better days, but the Colonel did not enjoy it, for that also promised him no more calm evenings working and admiring _his_ butterfly. Yes, she was still his. She would always be his, forevermore and "'til death do them part".

So on beautiful, spring days he would take himself to the park, admiring the other butterflies, the metaphorical and literal. But among the metaphorical he would never find any quite like his own. But he'd feed his pathetic need with pathetically cheap alcohol, often whiskey, so strong to overcome the flood of emotion, and even more pathetically whorish women, slurred illusions when he had let the alcohol control his physical being.

Today though, he had merely been searching for the literal. It was a nice day and the park seemed welcoming. He came upon an open field in which a dog ran chasing those beautiful insects. It looked all too familiar, so he knew to search for its owner. "Hawkeye," he greeted. A smile lit his face.

"Oh, sir," she spurted. She came into a shaky salute.

He chuckled, motioning at their civilian attire.

"O-of course, excuse me," she spat out. "I forget we have lives beyond the military."

"We almost don't," came his morbid reply. A change of subject was in need and Mustang provided it. "Admiring the butterflies, I see?"

"Y-yes, sir," Her embarrassment grew. "And you, sir?"

"Admiring them as well, I suppose. I am attached to that one there that your mutt follows around. Be sure Hayate doesn't let her get hurt." He pointed, serving a side-glance at the same moment to her, perhaps motioning something else than he let off.

"Yes, but, um, "her", sir?" the questioning look was not unexpected.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, I've found butterfly to take on many meanings." He rose and nodded his head to his subordinate. "Good day, Hawkeye."

He turned to the dog emerging from the field. "And Hayate, watch over my butterfly please."

The dog barked in reply and trotted to Hawkeye. He understood and he would take care of her.

**-End-**


	5. Familiarity

**For the Love of RoyAi!  
By: **Akira Asakura

**SPOILER WARNING: EPISODE 25**

**A/N:  
**Yet again, not one of my favorites, though with editing I did come to like it more, but we'll see how you all respond to it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "_Hagaren_", so if you would please leave me be, we can continue on the story.

-♥-

**Drabble Five- Familiarity**

He'd always been told that "_familiarity breeds contempt_"… And he always believed it. He saw it as: "To be too used to one or to know one too well would allow that one to be last in thought or to be forgotten." So he would always tell himself. He had proof too. He'd known Maes Hughes too well. He'd been too used to him around. He'd easily let Hughes be taken away. He would not let it happen again.

So when the chance arose again to learn more about a subordinate, his good little soldier who was trying to comfort him, he let it pass. He told her, "I'm sorry Lieutenant. I would like to be to myself." He glanced back at her for a brief moment while on that train, showing no emotion but perhaps slight curiosity and he saw what could've been described as a pained expression. It panged his heart with guilt, but he ignored any sense of it. They'd just received the information of Hughes's pass. "Besides, I've been told countless times that familiarity breeds contempt. I would rather not lose another soldier not heeding that warning." With that, the Colonel turned back to his window, watching a confused reflection of his Lieutenant seat herself and watch him hopelessly.

"Sir, if you need, I _am_ here to speak to," she persisted, also watching the reflection of the other in the window. "I will be here always. Please understand that."

"Yes Lieutenant, I understand. Now if you could please leave me to myself," he replied, surprisingly not irritably, though his words would seem to hold that tone naturally.

_I will be sure you are always here, for I will not let you fall before myself._

**-End-**


	6. Baking

**For the Love of RoyAi!  
By: **Akira Asakura

**A/N:  
**Another one that I don't care much for… Perhaps because I can barely stand fluff and this one is so fluffy that it caused OOC-ness. I suppose this will be for you fluff-lovers though. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't not own this anime/manga/video game or anything else it just may be categorized with, so either read on or leave for whom knows why.

-♥-

**Drabble Six- Baking**

"You know, Hawkeye," stated Mustang cheerfully, upon another of his informative rambles, "I absolutely love Gracia Hughes." He rethought the statement, forking another chunk of pie into his mouth. "No, no, actually, I just love her pie." His grin grew. "This woman is really a goddess in baking. It's no wonder Hughes never shuts up about her." His grin was still growing and his eyes were still flashing that damned, devious gleam. "I would positively_ marry_ any woman who could back pie this well." He finally finished his slice of pie and glanced up at Hawkeye, cocking a brow. "Leaving so soon, Hawkeye?"

"Yes sir, Colonel Mustang," she replied almost too quickly. She turned. "I just realized I have some business to attend to…" _…Some business with Gracia Hughes, involving cooking of a sort…_

"Of course," he said, slightly vigorously. He swiveled around in his arm chair. "Have a good day Hawkeye… Oh and if by chance you should meet Gracia Hughes, do tell her thank you and send in a request for more pie." _…I ponder the effect of my words…_

**-End-**


	7. Smile

**For the Love of RoyAi!  
By:** Akira Asakura

**A/N:  
**Another of my not exactly favorites, but I do like it. It's sort of cute, but as some of you may have told by my other one's thus far, I never really have them dating. I don't think it makes much sense, on usual occasions, so I often just have them like each other and that's it. Now go read and don't forget to review!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned _Hagaren_, the world would be in peril.

-♥-  
**Drabble Seven – Smile**

He was worried about her, frightfully worried. He knew her well, for it'd been nearly 10 years after all. A decade with her and of all the things to scare him most, it was when she smiled. Her smile meant it was time to impress someone. Her smile meant she'd found her next sniping target. But most of all, her smile meant she'd lost herself to lies. And, God rest his tainted and tortured soul, her smile drove him crazy. He'd worry endlessly and this time, he could barely hold it in.

The infamous FullMetal was now "under Mustang's wing" per-say. Mustang was his commanding officer and that meant he would need to know detail upon detail of the new recruit's life. So it was a shock to him when his Lieutenant smiled at the boy, upon a handshake. Words were exchanged, ignorance acknowledged, and things steadily halted. Finally Mustang let the young alchemist go and he could spurt what he'd wished. "So, Lieutenant, what _is_ his problem?" _Damn, that didn't come out right._

"Problem, sir?" Her confusion played into a cock of an eyebrow.

"You smiled." It seemed almost "matter of fact" with his tone.

"Ah, no problem, he's just so… admirably ignorant. I want to enjoy this fresh attitude as long as is possible." She smiled just faintly as she turned.

"Oh, I see. Back to work then." He waver he off and sighed. "She didn't smile for me."

**-End-**


	8. To a Point of Grace

**For the Love of RoyAi!  
By:** Akira Asakura

**A/N:  
**This is one of my favorites and probably one of the most lyrical thus far. Enjoy and review, please!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned _Hagaren_, would I be making fan fiction?

-♥-  
**Drabble Eight- To a Point of Grace**

Hawkeye was like a graceful dancer and the battlefield was her stage. Quiet on her feet and graceful with every movement, even the heave of her chest in exhausted breath, _she _was the perfection of center stage. And though others would state that she followed Mustang, it was more as how the dog chases its tail. The head may seem in front, but the tail drags him a long. It was true; she dragged Mustang along on that dirty battlefield. She kept him alive another moment, hour, day, month, however long it took. But she didn't shove him along with purposeless shouts only made for the sake of "strength" or "recognition. No, she got him up each day with a kind, but slightly strict, force about her. No one could explain, nor could they understand, when he insisted that though he was the proclaimed leader, she kept him on his feet and kept it together. And each day, through the sweltering heat, the dead stares of corpses, the screams of bloody murder, and the smell, the always lingering, burning, almost acidic, essence of all the chaos, he knew she kept him alive and she did it so well, it almost brought that frantic struggle to a point of grace.

**-End-**


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